


Influence

by Trytofocus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bondage, CNC, Dubcon at first, Happy Ending, M/M, Memory Loss, No Sex, Vampire!Shiro, Venom injection, feeding on blood, human!keith, only blood slurping, vampire magic influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 21:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20553320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trytofocus/pseuds/Trytofocus
Summary: Vampire!Shiro ties Keith up and feeds from his inner thigh.





	Influence

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this art](https://twitter.com/Try_ToFocus/status/1169318811293618178?s=20). Big thanks to [voluptatiscausa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voluptatiscausa/pseuds/voluptatiscausa) for beta'ing this fic! Go read their Good Omens fic, [Oh, Maker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002369/chapters/47359300)!
> 
> Edit: this fic now has it's own audio preview, check it out [here](https://twitter.com/Try_ToFocus/status/1306938102972375041?s=20)

Keith shifts where he is told to sit; the compulsion spell feels like a wire thread tightening around his heart. Shiro doesn’t miss the flinching and turns his gaze away from admiring him, catching Keith’s eye to reinforce his influence. It seems to work for now; the flinching stops and Keith tries to catch the breath he had been holding, though it won’t quite fit in his lungs. His hands grip the edge of the counter in bruised, white-knuckled desperation as Shiro triples the spell.  
  
He seems to be able to resist the usual amount of energy Shiro puts into his influence, but in the end not even a prodigy like him could stand up to the raw, ancient power. Keith doesn’t have enough air to verbally protest, breathing fast and shallow as Shiro brushes his hair away from the side of his neck, revealing the small puncture wounds from a few minutes ago, when Keith still thought they were playing. Shiro’s ears had been round then, and his teeth human. But once the playful hickey bite revealed itself to have been a venom injection, it was too late. All he could do was stare helplessly at the wicked smile his hookup gave him while dissolving into a puddle in his arms. He could move again shortly after, but by then his clothes were already gone and doing anything but obeying felt _wrong_.  
  
Still he fights. Shiro finds it endearing. He presses a kiss there, and licks the crusted blood away, reopening the wounds to steal a little more. Keith feels the influence waning a little when Shiro breaks eye contact, and tries to move. He manages to bring his arm up and try to elbow Shiro away. The offending limb is caught in metal fingers, in a grip unyielding but strangely gentle, and Keith feels the fangs go back in his neck as Shiro decides to push more of his venom in.  
  
Keith moans, a blissful cloudiness spreading from behind his eyes. They roll shut and he keens weakly, tilting forward, pain from the bite and a sudden rush of urgency making his head spin. Shiro can’t believe Keith isn’t dead or unconscious yet. He decides to refrain from further poisoning his prey, and instead grabs some rope to bind his arms. Palm to elbow. To keep them from wandering.  
  
Keith’s arms bend easily; the realization sends a thrill through Shiro. He doesn’t do this much anymore, but the aesthetic appeals to him. He makes sure the knots are hidden, the pattern pleasing to look at as well as inescapable, should Keith somehow manage to overcome his charm. Then he just lets him sit there a moment, deciding on what should be done next while admiring his beauty.  
  
He leans his elbows on the table behind him while reveling in the sight of Keith, struggling against the restraints, hopelessly trying to find an out. It would look a little pathetic and half-hearted to the average observer, but Shiro knows most other prey wouldn’t even be able to keep their eyes open, let alone move around so much. Still, he seems too safely spelled to attempt getting off the counter himself; he’d probably faceplant right into Shiro. The thought is amusing, but he won’t let that happen.  
  
He just looks so pretty, all wrapped up like that; a present to himself.  
  
Keith had agreed to come to his place, accompanied by a total stranger. Shiro couldn’t fault him, he’d been hunting him all evening, not even using his influence. They spent a genuinely great night talking and dancing and drinking. It looked to be exactly what Keith needed. To let loose, to unwind. Shiro was happy to provide. But Shiro has his needs too. And those will have to be addressed soon.  
  
He holds Keith’s gaze and gets him to stop struggling.  
  
“I won’t hurt you, I want you to know,” he says, and Keith’s eyes narrow, his current predicament irreconcilable with these words. Keith takes a deep breath and manages to stutter back—  
  
“It hurts. What you put in me. It hurts.”  
  
“Patience, it will pass.”  
  
“You’re a vampire,” he says, clearer now, “You won’t let me go.”  
  
“Actually—” Shiro says, stepping forward and in between Keith’s unbound legs. One hand rests on his thigh, a little too close to his crotch to be perfectly chaste, while the other strokes his jaw playfully. “—I let almost everyone go.”  
  
Keith’s breath quickens once more as Shiro leans closer. He leans back instinctively, but there’s a wall behind him and he only manages to further confine his bound hands.  
  
“Shh… _relax_,” Shiro says, ignoring Keith’s tendons tensing as he licks the wounds at his neck closed.  
  
The relief is instantaneous, and Keith sucks in a deep, level breath.  
  
“Almost?” he asks, feeling the vampire’s pointed ear move against his jaw. Nodding.  
  
“Not all of my prey are like you, Keith. Some of them don’t _deserve_ to leave.”  
  
“What—” Keith breaths, “—do you do to them?”  
  
“Nothing they didn’t ask for by either voice or actions.” Keith understands, or at least, he _hopes_ he does. Something compels him to stop resisting, And it’s not the influence anymore that keeps him still as Shiro’s hands on his face are replaced with his lips. He forgets about the discomfort in his arms and suddenly wishes they were free so he could pull Shiro closer.  
  
Shiro’s breath is cold; it was welcome when Keith was sweating on the dance-floor earlier, enjoying himself too much to pay attention to his too interesting companion. Curiously, he waits for Keith to do it. Lips red with Keith’s own blood ghost over his. He smells the rusty scent of it but he realizes he is being given the choice to escalate. He uses his hands to push himself off the wall— and bites Shiro.  
  
He must be mad. Keith actually bit a vampire. He thinks he could be, if it wasn’t for the smile he feels, tugging at the lower lip he holds captive with his human teeth. Exposed fangs prod his skin but never puncture. Shiro doesn’t pull away; he deepens the kiss, and Keith lets himself explore, running his tongue over the sharp incisors, tasting blood and all the shitty alcohol they had that night. He can’t believe he’s here, like this, making out with the world’s most dangerous predator. World’s most gorgeous one too.  
  
“Shiro,” Keith gasps, breaking them up. “Can you untie me?”  
  
“And why would I do that?” Shiro says, amused, as though Keith had just said the silliest thing.   
  
“So I can touch you.”  
  
“Maybe later.”   
  
“‘Maybe’?” Keith sounds weary, but in his mind something clicks into place. He _likes_ this. Not having control, not knowing what will happen. Being told what to do.  
  
Shiro’s flesh hand rakes down Keith’s chest, dragging his forming claws over the skin there. Keith is so warm and flushed already. The blood is beading in the wake of Shiro’s claws, rushing to the surface, trailing down along in four perfect lines. Shiro lowers himself down, blindly grabbing a kitchen stool to sit on in front of Keith, eyes level with his stomach. Keith leans down, bereft, already missing Shiro’s lips, but the claws keep him at bay.   
  
“Don’t move.”  
  
Keith doesn’t think he can stay still, but he nods and looks away so he can better focus on Shiro’s touch. He feels his cold breath again, then lips, kissing, sucking a bruise into the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. He hears the vampire moan and grunt into his skin, making him shiver.  
  
Shiro breathes him in, sensing the powerful flow of blood Keith’s racing heart pumps all through him. His favourite place to feed. Unorthodox;most prefer the carotid. And that’s quite an easy shot, for a predator, at night, in some alley. Shiro does like a challenge, getting to someone’s femoral artery like this, with their permission, with them obeying without a drop of influence, a smidge of eye contact. That requires finesse, and Shiro fancies himself quite the expert. The hand on Keith’s chest stays there, anchoring him in place. If he moves too much Shiro risks tearing the blood vessel. His metal hand holds Keith’s leg tight, pressed to the counter. Shiro takes a deep breath, and bites.  
  
The pain… the _pleasure_... is an experience. Keith isn't sure that he is entirely there for the whole of it. He comes to seconds later when he feels Shiro’s clawed hand press harder on his chest. His arms take the blow when he is slammed back against the wall, Shiro’s fangs never leaving his flesh. 

Shiro drinks the warm, flowing blood like a man possessed. Delicious after weeks of abstinence. The power coursing through him, feeding off Keith’s vitality, unparallel to any he has ever tasted. He is delicious. 

Keith stirs under his hold, shaking, no… shivering. Shiro can feel his breath intertwined in his pulse, growing deeper and deeper. He must be aware of what Shiro is doing, and lets it happen anyway. Trusting. But not even trust tramples a body’s natural reaction to a procedure such as this. Knowing Shiro could kill him, Keith’s body rebels still. He thrashes once, twice, wrapping his free leg around Shiro’s shoulder and back to ground himself, fighting the confusion of pleasure and pain Shiro’s toxin fills him with as he drinks. The hand holding Keith pressed to the wall comes off only to find his throat in warning. The thrashing stops, Shiro tastes the fear in his blood. His hold may bruise, and Shiro looks forward to seeing the marks he leaves on Keith’s pretty neck, and everywhere else. 

When at last Shiro’s thirst is somewhat satisfied, the incisors retract slowly, Keith’s back arches as they come out of his flesh and Shiro presses his metal fingers down on his leg, a final precaution before Keith is free of his bear trap hold. The hand around his throat loosens and Shiro takes a moment to steady himself, leaning back on the stool and bringing his hands to his lips, chasing the taste of blood with the salt of Keith’s sweat on his fingers. 

Keith catches his breath, trembling against the wall. He cannot believe Shiro would just leave him there, like this, even for a moment. He feels robbed; of his will, of his blood, of the vampire’s touch. He opens his eyes to glare, to demand what he is owed, but instead his shoulders sag and his head lolls. It isn’t long before Keith sags forward, and falls right into Shiro, unable to stop himself with his hands bound as they are. Shiro catches him just before they both almost topple over, holding the human close and burying his face in his raven hair. 

_Oh well_, he thinks. _Maybe I did let _that_ happen. _

Desire rolls off Keith in waves. Need. His body trembles with it as he becomes aware once more. 

Shiro stands up holding Keith in his arms like the most precious of things, and carries him to the bed. Blood trails in their wake as he gently lays Keith out,blood soaking the sheets right away. He takes a moment to lick Keith’s wounded thigh closed, loving the moan it drags out of the human when the pain is well and truly gone, with only the aftershocks of pleasure remaining in his system.

He then climbs on top and looms over his prey, still bound and wrecked beneath him. So stunningly gorgeous as he withers and struggles weakly against the rope. As if on cue, once Shiro is where he wants him, Keith’s legs wrap around his torso. Shiro can’t resist the fond smile that tugs at his lips.

“You wanted this,” Shiro tells him. Lacing his voice with the truth, and at once the memory is on the surface of Keith’s mind. “You wanted to feel the thrill of a first bite again, sweetheart. How was it?”

Keith stops struggling, hearing his own voice in his head, asking his boyfriend to make him forget the hundreds of times they have done this. A deep sense of _calm_, and _safe _washes over him. Words aren’t quite coming to him yet so he presses his legs together and makes Shiro come closer.

“Thank you,” he says at last, smiling into the kiss. “It was amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/try_tofocus) and [tumblr](https://trytofocus.tumblr.com)!


End file.
